


left over from a conversation

by SorryFreudianSlip



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SorryFreudianSlip/pseuds/SorryFreudianSlip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This looks pretentious.”<br/>“Oh, hush, William.” Bev flashed a winning smile, all pearly white. It wasn’t for Will. It was for a pretty brunette in a wrap dress, waiting in line for coffee in what was the fanciest café Will had ever seen.<br/>“Why did you bring me here?”<br/>“I need a wingman. You also need a wingman. We can help each other out.”</p><p>In which Hannibal owns a café, Will is an anxious mess, and Bev and Alana are perfect, otherworldly beings. No surprise there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	left over from a conversation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FandomsAndRage](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=FandomsAndRage).



> A request from a friend. Title comes from a poem by Kenny Knight, called Lessons in Tea-Making:
> 
> I read the tea leaves/as if they were words  
> left over from a conversation/between two cups…
> 
> Warnings for brief descriptions of a crime scene, nonchalant talk about corpse decomposition, and Will's messed up imagination.

“This looks pretentious.”

“Oh, hush, William.” Bev flashed a winning smile, all pearly white. It wasn’t for Will. It was for a pretty brunette in a wrap dress, waiting in line for coffee in what was the fanciest café Will had ever seen.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I need a wingman. You also need a wingman. We can help each other out.”

“Yep. You’ll look especially charming next to the twitchy, sweaty guy.” Will tried for levity, but it came out flat and anxious, as most of his jokes did. Bev laughed anyways, because she was a saint.

The truth was, they ( _Jack and The Gang-Trademark Pending_ ) were shaken about the killer of the week. The murderer, nicknamed the Minnesota Brewer, had left the FBI three barrels filled with three dead girls. Their skin had been white and soggy, peeling off their bones like swathes of cloth. The scene reeked of hops and waterlogged flesh. Bev had hoped this trip might calm Will's anxiety from having to assume _that_ perspective.

“I had a professor do a similar experiment.” Will said. Bev was still trying to catch the brunettes eye. “Ms. Ayers. She put pig carcasses in kiddy pools.” Bev hummed, watching her walk to a table. “Good talk, Bev.”

“I love cadaver experiments as much as the next girl, Graham. But today we have an important mission.”

“What, get you that girl’s number?”

“Yes. And get you that guy’s number.” She pointed behind the bar.

*

“Good morning, Abigail.” Alana said with a smile, stepping up to the counter. Abigail beamed.

“Hello Doctor Bloom!”

“Is Doctor Lecter here?”

“Yep, let me go get him. Also,” Abigail called over her shoulder, “He wants people to call him Hannibal!”

Hannibal. The name was unfamiliar on her tongue. He’d always been Doctor Lecter, all the time she’d known him. Then again, she wouldn’t have known Doctor Lecter to open up a café and hire a bunch of college kids as employees.

“Hannibal.”

“Alana.” He greeted her with a polite upturn of the lips. “Espresso Con Panna. Chocolate shavings on top.”

“Right as always.” He slid her a mug. “Thank you. Lovely shop you’ve made, here. I like the pianos outside, with all the colors?”

Hannibal hummed, cocking his head to the side. “I bought them, the kids painted them. We used to have problems with people knocking them over.”

“That’s rude.”

“Very. There’s a beautiful young woman staring at you.”

“Yeah. She’s not being subtle. It’s flattering. Her friend is an attractive young man.”

“Alana.”

“Hannibal.” Alana took a sip of her espresso as Abigail took the order of an annoyed businessman in line behind her. “You should talk to him. Give him a free drink. Don’t hide back there and make Abigail deal with it.”

“Perhaps you could come back and talk with me. You’re holding up the line.”

“No, I think I’ll leave you to be sociable. That young woman is pretty cute.”

“I’ll tell you what she orders. Something for you to psychoanalyze, Doctor.”

Alana picked up her mug, tipping it to Hannibal in mock salute. “I’ll leave that to you. You should keep yourself sharp with the handsome boy at her side.”

Hannibal smiled. “Enjoy your espresso.”

*

“No, Bev.”

“C’mon, Will! He’s hot, in a creepy way.”

“You’re just interested in him because she’s talking to your brunette.”

“Semantics. Hello.”

“Hello! My name is Abigail. I haven’t seen you here before.” Abigail had pale, wind-chafed skin, and deep blue eyes. Will’s hands twitched, and Bev’s slight pause told him she noticed it too.

She looked like the other girls, murdered and shoved in vats of foul liquids.

Abigail mistook their silence for confusion. “Oh, most people who come in are regulars. Do you know what you’d like?”

“Uh…” Bev flashed a guilty smile. The people behind them were murmuring.

“ _Bev_.”

“Sorry! I don’t know what most of the words on the menu mean.”

“We get that a lot. Don’t worry.” Abigail smiled. “See that man over there? In the white apron? His name’s Hannibal, he’s the owner. He can look at you and tell you what to order. It’s cool.”

“Thanks, Abigail.” Will knew Bev was about three seconds from crowing in victory. “Sorry to hold up the line.”

Abigail shrugged one shoulder. “It’s only trouble if you’re rude.”

*

“Hello. I’m Bev. I was, uh, told to come see you?”

“Hannibal. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Couldn’t decide what to pick?”

“Yeah.” Bev nudged Will’s side.

“Give me a moment, I’ll fix you something.”

“Thank you.” Hannibal set to work cleaning the counter, fussing with bottles of syrup and setting tea to boil. Mostly, though, he was studying the two. The woman must be a scientist, or a chemist, based on how she was studying the density of the syrups. She also smelled of saline solution and plastic pipettes. A chemist with a sweet tooth. He put the syrup down.

“One moment, please.”

*

Hannibal returned with a small platter, surprisingly enough. On it was a plate of cucumbers, and a tall, thin glass filled with bright green liquid and strange, blue balls. Will had never seen anything like it. Judging by Bev’s gasp, she had.

“Bubble tea? That’s awesome!”

“Honeydew and Agave Boba tea, with cucumber and lime salt on the side.”

“I’ve never seen it so...fancy. My little sister and I used to get this all the time.” Bev's grin was so huge, it split her face. Will smiled, caught up in her delight, and tried not to think of her mouth as a deep gash, bubbling up with blood. “Do you guys make it in house?”

“Yes. Abigail introduced me to the drink, and the rest of the staff was so delighted by it that we had to make it a part of the menu.”

“It’s fun. It pops when you drink it! Will, try it.”

“No thanks, Bev.” All Hannibal’s attention focused on him. “Uh. Not much of a sweet tooth. Sorry.”

“Your loss, man. Thank you so much, how much..?”

“No, no. First order is on the house.” Hannibal waved her wallet away with grace. Will was annoyed to have noticed that. “Though, as payment, you might join my friend Alana by the window.”

The brunette was a vision, framed by golden light and sipping at her mug daintily.

“Yeah. Uh, yeah. Okay. Thanks.” Bev smiled, and walked toward her. Will began to follow.

“Your name is Will?”

“Um, yeah. I was just…” He gestured to Bev. “I don’t want anything, thank you.”

“I insist. You can come back in the kitchen, if you’d like. I’d be happy to make you something.”

Will looked to Bev with something akin to desperation. She smiled, turning to find Alana.

“I guess I’ve no choice. Lead on.”

*

“Not fond of crowds, are we? Or eye contact?” The kitchen was small, but well stocked. There were bottles and bags of spices on every surface. Hannibal was letting some fragrant tea steep while preparing what looked like sausage.

“Eyes are distracting. You see too much, you don’t see enough. As for crowds, well. Does anyone _like_ them?”

“Fair enough. What do you mean, see too much?”

There was an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the sizzling of the pan and the sounds of the café.

“You are Will Graham of the FBI, correct? Forgive me, I’ve read about your gift.”

“Not a gift.” Will strolled forward, his shaky voice doing nothing to disguise his anger. “Well then. If you’ve seen the psychology journals, read the gossip columns, you’ve heard of our latest case. The girls, steeped in barrels?”

“I have.”

“Abigail looks just like them.”

Hannibal stilled. Then resumed cooking. “I had not made the connection.” He turned back to look at him. “Thank you. For...warning me, I suppose. I’m a tad protective of my workers.”

Will blinked, suspicions forgotten. “Who are they?”

“Former patients, or children of patients. I’m a therapist.”

Will felt his stomach sink. “Oh.”

“Not fond of those, either?”

“Have you met Frederick Chilton?”

Hannibal smiled. “Unfortunately. He can be quite…”

“Abrasive?”

“That’s a good word for it. Abrasive.”

Will chuckled, ducking his head. Hannibal brought a steaming mug over with a plate of sausage.

“Zlatiborac sausage with Assam black tea. Warm and hearty, and certainly not sweet.”

“Thank you.” Will hesitated.

“You don’t have to go out there. I was thinking of having lunch.”

“Could I join you?”

“Of course.” He smiled. “Eat while it’s hot.”

**Author's Note:**

> -the little line about "Mrs. Ayers" is a reference to Laura E. Ayers, who used pig carcasses to study the decomposition of human bodies in water.
> 
> You can find me at SorryFreudianSlip.tumblr.com!


End file.
